


Vignettes (Or: Akira Kurusu As Seen Through The Eyes Of The World)

by dark_hour_shenanigans



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_hour_shenanigans/pseuds/dark_hour_shenanigans
Summary: There is the Trickster.There are his fellow thieves, his friends.There are his Confidants, his Co-conspirators.And then there is the faceless boy with the green pencil case who sits behind him at school. The Newspaper Girl. The drunken souse who always, without fail, shows up in the alleyway near Leblanc.





	Vignettes (Or: Akira Kurusu As Seen Through The Eyes Of The World)

Akira Kurusu was a man of mystery. The rumors flying about when he’d first arrived at school would make you think he was a crazed drug-dealing armed murderer who had contacts in the goddamn mafia.

Except he was some kid with messy hair and big glasses and wore the uniform perfectly, without the slightest modification, like most did. People still found a way to make him scary. It was all a front to make himself seem harmless. He looked quiet now, but surely when he got mad…

There had been talk of him and two other second years getting expelled, barely a week after school started. Sakamoto and Mishima. Sakamoto was understandable—he’d been a delinquent ever since the track team fell apart—but Mishima? The others must’ve gotten to him somehow. There was no other way that Kamoshida would expel a member of his precious volleyball team.

And then the Phantom Thieves happened. Calling cards posted all over the board hanging in the hallway, splashes of crimson red demanding justice and promising retribution upon sinners. Suddenly, there was something more exciting to talk about than the transfer student’s past record.

For a while, anyways. Everyone knew Kamoshida was the one planning to get Kurusu expelled, and everyone knew this was Kurusu’s only chance before getting shipped off to juvie. So on ground the rumor mill.

But he was old news. Who cared about the kid with an arrest record when there were Phantom Thieves among us, delivering justice to criminals and making them confess? Who cared about the weird quiet kid in the back of the class when you could be browsing the Phan-Site or roasting Akechi on Twitter or have morality debates on web forums? There were better things to talk about. Better things to occupy your mind with than that criminal scum.

Unless you were the kid sitting behind him in class, and had to bear witness to the sheer amount of bullshit the guy got up to.

Shiro Nakamura wondered if the universe hated him.

——————

He could deal with the cat. It was cute, and watching it twitch its nose and flick its tail was a great way to distract himself from lectures and note-taking. Kinda weird how Kurusu kept bringing it to school every day, when one good look at his squirming bag or at the tail sticking out of his desk would get him in trouble pretty quickly, but not a big deal.

It was the bombs that Shiro had a problem with.

Put yourself in his shoes: You’re an everyday Japanese high school student whose most defining feature was that he owned a neon green pencil case just minding your business when the guy sitting in front of you—the person with an _assault on his record!_ The murderer! The drug dealer! The yakuza thug!—takes out a box and starts putting together a bomb.

So yeah. He was a little freaked out.

The proper thing to do would be to get up (that way he can’t grab you!), walk to the front of the class (out of the range of knives!), and calmly inform the teacher (make sure he can’t hear!).

Except.

Shiro would have to get up from his seat, attracting the attention of everyone in the class—(What is he doing? Why is he standing up? Does he need the bathroom or something?)—walk up to the teacher—(Sit down, Nakamura-san, I’m still teaching here)—and tell her about the bomb without stammering or shaking or losing his nerve or just plain sounding crazy—(B-bomb and the making and K-kurusu—bomb, I mean, the transfer, he’s making)—and just what could Kawakami do, anyways, faced with a bomb?

And then after, he’d have to deal with questions and curious classmates and having people constantly talking about him and the rumor mill would grind and grind and—

It just wasn’t worth it.

So he kept quiet and said nothing as Kurusu made bombs, lockpicks, flamethrowers, bullets and other assorted highly illegal items. Win-win. No one got hurt.

Kawakami was in on it; at the very least, she turned a blind eye. There was no way she couldn’t have noticed, what with the folders Kurusu put up in front of his desk to prevent anyone from seeing just what it was he was making. Everyone except Shiro—but that was beside the point.

Shiro would be a hypocrite if he condemned her for not doing anything, but he couldn’t help but feel a little irked whenever she passed over Kurusu while asking review questions and acted like their little corner of the room didn’t exist. She was the adult here, after all—if anyone could do something about the situation, it was her.

But whatever. He wasn’t going to be the one to call her out. Just pretend nothing’s happening. It’s so much easier that way.

Eventually, Shiro grew used to it. The English teacher just left and Kurusu was taking out that little box of tools again? Just look at your notes and pretend nothing’s happening. Doing nothing was a strategy that served him well for the months he spent as the silent collaborator to Kurusu’s schemes.

(Everything clicked after the Phantom Thieves’ dramatic comeback. He sat behind the guy everyday; there was no way Shiro couldn’t recognize the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Still, he said nothing. Who would believe him?)


End file.
